Throne of the Burning Sun
by Eliss Elusive
Summary: AU. In the times of ancient Egypt, the royal family takes in a son sent to them on the Nile - Perseus. Growing up with an older brother, Kronos, who is destined to be the pharaoh, he must find his place in the royal hierarchy. Percabeth in later chapters
1. Chapter 1

**House of the Burning Sun**

**Some chapters could get away with a K rating. Others are borderline M. T seems like a happy medium. Be prepared for: language, sex, and violence. **

_Oh Mother, tell your children,  
><em>_Not to do what I have done.  
><em>_Spend your lives in misery,  
><em>_On the Throne of the Burning Sun._

**Prologue  
><strong>**Gift of the Nile**

The sun was a merciless fiend, endlessly scorching the land and all those who dared live on it.

The Nile was a capricious savior, sometimes bringing them deliverance in the form of a devastating flood, and other years ignoring them completely.

They became used to the heat, laughing at the foreigners who would faint in the streets and wake up missing anything that was of value to them. The sun strengthened them.

They learned how to channel and distribute the water in times of drought. While neighboring countries struggled with famine, they laughed at their poverty. The Nile nourished them.

They worshipped their gods. They grew stronger. They gained power.

They were the Egyptians.

* * *

><p>It was a heat wave, even by their high standards. The air scorched their lungs; simply existing was enough to make a person sweat heavily. Adults lounged indolently. Children played in the shallows of the Nile, watched by poor girls who were given a few bread loaves to keep an eye out for crocodiles. The slaves continued on with their work – they were never allowed the luxury of a day's rest.<p>

On the fifth day of the unbearable warmth, when no one else dared venture outside for fear of heat sickness, the pharaoh was finding a way to keep himself occupied in the midst of the lethargy that had crept into his nation.

Pharaoh Uranus II was the embodiment of the perfect royal – to the lower class, he was reserved, cold, and impassionate. He protected them as long as they paid proper dues to the temples and the royals. But when it came to his territory's richer occupants, he was charming, persuasive, and attentive. And in return, the building of the temples was funded, the army was maintained, and his family lived in luxury.

Gaia, his queen and a foreigner he'd made his favored wife for political reasons, had finally bore him a son after countless years of disappointment. The young infant, less than a year old, was destined to take his place one day. Kronos, she'd named him.

But the pharaoh had been plagued with lingering paranoia. His wives tried their best to soothe him, but nothing could be done. And so on that fifth day, he summoned Hrashmi, high priestess of the temple of Solem Deum, the one who was gifted with his foresight.

The priestess was barely a woman, hardly more than 16 years of age. She had been no older than a toddler when the previous high priestess had been taken by the gods and Solem Deum had marked her as the next in his chosen line.

It was the high priestess's job to oversee the royal temple of her god, lead her sisters in worship, make the proper sacrifices when due, and consort with the pharaoh when he called for her presence. It was up to the pharaoh to decide which high priestess he would favor – if any. Some had chosen to completely ignore the powerful women; others had gone so far as to make them their queens.

The two primary high priestesses were those of Solem Deum and Aquam Deus. Settrah, the chosen of the latter, had visited the royal family to aid them in the conception of a son. She had sprinkled her holy water over their bed and chanted, touching the rippling mark on her forehead that marked her as the chosen of Aquam Deus.

But, with Hrashmi fresh in her womanhood right in front of him, Uranus wondered why he'd ever wasted time with the aging priestess of the water god. The priestess of the sun had dark hair that brushed the floor, but it was kept away from her forehead so that the mark of Solem Deum was clearly displayed – a large circle with a smaller dot in its center. Every exposed inch of her coppery skin was covered with calligraphy, the scriptures of her temple spelled out on flesh so they would never be forgotten. The dress she wore bordered on sheer, and it clung to her body where sweat had pooled over her long walk to his palace.

"Pharaoh." She bowed before him, kissing the ground before rising. "I am happy to assist you however I can." Behind her voice was something stronger than a mere girl. It was as if Solem Deum was speaking right along with her.

He looked down at her from his golden throne. "Tell me, priestess. Does Solem Deum make you wise in the art of interpreting dreams?" His voice boomed throughout the spacious hall.

"He does, Pharaoh. He enlightens me in all things prophetic, just as Aquam Deus makes his priestess a powerful healer." The silvery mark on her forehead gleamed, standing out against her darker skin. "Have you something you wish me to help you with?"

"Shortly before this heat started, I began to have strange dreams. Dreams of riots in the streets, the temples being burned to the ground, of Egypt being thrown into complete-"

"I know," the priestess interrupted him. Only someone of her standing could get away with such an act. "Solem Deum has given me the same visions and instructed me to wait until you asked me to explore the matter further. Please, Pharaoh. Step down from your throne and kneel with me."

Uranus stepped down from his throne, the hot floor of the palace burning the soles of his feet. He knelt next to the young girl so they were both facing the direction of the rising sun. The floor seemed to give off heat – making him quickly break into a sweat.

She reached into a fold of her dress and pulled out a bag. She wordlessly handed it to him and bent her head, touching her fingertips to her forehead and chanting. "_Deus ex solis luce est. Ostende nobis futura sapientia tua omnisciens. Sequar te in vita mea, amica mea et lumen. Iter illuminabit_."

He shook the bag a few times before pouring out the contents before them. A variety of colored stones with unfamiliar markings scattered for a few moments before assuming fixed positions. He'd seen priestesses of different gods use many forms of divination, but those used by those who followed Solem Deum always seemed to become the most reliable.

Hrashmi hovered over the stones and breathed softly. The pharaoh watched in a stunned silence as the symbols changed before them, some becoming more familiar.

"These represent you and Gaia," she said in a tone almost trancelike, pointing to two large stones in the center of the arrangement. They bore matching marks, a small circle surrounded by a star – the symbol for their royal house. "And these smaller stones. They are your children."

"But there are eight." One more than he and his wife possessed. "Kronos is our last child, and he is our seventh."

She pointed to a deep blue stone. All the others bore the same symbol as the first two, but this one had a marking that was unfamiliar to him. "There are powerful forces at work – stronger than you or I can comprehend. This child is not born of you, but he will receive your inheritance. He is near the same age as your son, and he will steal Kronos' legacy. He will be the next pharaoh."

"That's not possible."

The high priestess continued on as though he hadn't spoken. "You are afraid of what I say. But this child is not to be feared. He will bring Egypt into even stronger times. He is born of lower blood, perhaps even a slave." Her hand hovered over a filthy stone, then moved on. "But there is a choice you need to make, Pharaoh. You must decide if you will accept the gifts bestowed to you or fight them."

Her shoulders slumped, and he felt as though some strong presence had left them. "That is all the stones say, Pharaoh. We can try another means of divination of you like, though Solem Deum is satisfied that he has answered you."

"No, priestess. I am fine. You may leave now." He stood, allowing her to bow down before him again. He dropped a few gold pieces into her hands, telling her to find a satisfactory animal to sacrifice to her patron in exchange for his wisdom.

It was no more than two hours after his meeting with Hrashmi that the Uranus made up his mind. "Tell me, Nen. The slaves – how are their numbers?"

Nen was his eyes and ears. He was called the pharaoh's cruentis manibus. The moment he'd had been named successor to his father, it was Uranus' first duty to choose his, and he'd picked Nen, the son of a wealthy merchant who had no problems with…breaking the rules.

"More abundant than ever, Pharaoh." He picked something out of his fingernails with his dagger. Only the cruentis manibus could get away with such flippant behavior in front of the ruler of Egypt. "Perhaps, too abundant?"

Nen was bloodthirsty, often too much so, but at a time like this, it became rather…expedient. "Assemble the first strains of our army. I will make the command," Uranus directed him.

And as the pharaoh spoke it, it became true. And as it became true, it was written in stone, to be kept so that future generations of Egyptian rulers could look to their ancestors for guidance.

_I, Pharaoh Uranus II, ruler of the land of Egypt by the power given to me by the gods, declare this to be true. The numbers of our slaves have grown too numerous, and the threat of a rebellion emerges as the new wave of children grow. To avert the risk, all male slave children under the age of three are to be killed before Solem Deum brings us a new day. So declares the pharaoh who sits on the throne of the burning sun, this is true._

* * *

><p>"Thalia, get the shades."<p>

The young girl normally would have at least put up a semblance of a struggle, but something in her mother's tone told her now was not the time for childish theatrics. Now was the time to listen and obey. She drew the cloth curtain and let it hang over the opening in the wall.

Her mother swaddled her infant in a sheet, born only three days prior. "Hush, child." Sahri was desperate. She'd heard the screams of the other women, seen them weeping outside the doors of their houses as the soldiers did their dirty work inside. No matter what she did, she was going to lose her son.

She was going to lose the last piece she had of the man she loved.

"Grab the fruit basket," she told her daughter. "You're going to need to carry it down to the river. Can you do that for me?" The little girl nodded, frightened. She'd never seen her mother act like this. Sahri was calm, compassionate, and slow to anger. This woman who'd replaced her mother was frantic.

While Thalia grabbed their large wicker basket, Sahri peeked through one of the cracks in the clay that made their house. They'd been spared so far because of their house's secluded location, but they couldn't trust their luck to last much longer. She pressed her newborn to her chest and made her decision.

"Come, Thalia. We need to hurry." Sahri grabbed her daughter's thin wrist and began a mad dash down the streets of the slave neighborhood. She tried to ignore the hunched figures of the women she considered friends, sobbing as though their souls were being ripped apart. The heat was debilitating – she wanted to fall down and never get up.

"Mother, come on. You're slowing down." Her daughter tugged on her skirt. She had been dutifully trying to carry the fruit basket and keep up with her mother's pace, and now she was the one pulling her forward. Tears streamed down Sahri's face.

They only met soldiers once, and Sahri was fast enough to pull herself and her daughter into a crack between two buildings. They were right next to the corpse of a woman who had been pregnant, her stomach slashed open and still bleeding. She prayed to the gods that her daughter wouldn't see.

The journey to the Nile had never seemed so long or perilous as it did when she knew her son's life depended on it. Finally, they arrived at the bank of the river safely. Sahri sent up a prayer to Aquam Deus, praying that her son would not meet a fate worse than that which he faced at the hands of the Egyptians.

"The fruit basket, Thalia."

Her daughter handed her the wicker basket, her mother's plans finally dawning on her. "Mother, you…you can't send him away. We can hide him. He'll be safe with us. We can protect him."

"Thalia, you know we can't." She hated how each word her daughter said pierced her heart, because these were the exact same fantasies she wished could work. "We have to put our faith in something else."

She kissed her child's forehead one last time and placed him in the wicker basket. She took off her necklace, nothing more than a dark blue stone on a leather string and placed it with him. "Promise you'll one day bring him back to me," she whispered, replacing the lid.

"Wait here, Thalia," she commanded, wading out into the river until the water was almost waist deep and she could feel a current begin to pull her.

Before letting go, she sent up one last silent prayer.

_You swore the water would always be safe for him. For the sake of all the promises you never kept, please, please keep this one._

* * *

><p>The royal palace was designed so that one of the small branches of the Nile came directly to it, forming a small pond that they could enjoy without ever having to venture out of the comforts of their home. Out of all the designs the palace had undergone as different pharaohs ruled, none had ever changed that one feature.<p>

Pharaoh Uranus II had redesigned his palace in a way that the main doors faced away from the Nile, so when the sun struck his residence, it practically gleamed like god. His wife had complained so incessantly though, that he'd finally created side doors that led directly to their small piece of the river.

Said wife was dangling her feet in the water, nursing her young son while her daughters played further out. Gaia enjoyed the cool breeze that came from the water and hoped her infant benefited from it. She worried that he would get heat sickness and be taken by the gods. And then her position as the future pharaoh's mother would be jeopardy – she was well aware that her husband had many other sons born by his other wives and concubines.

"Theia – don't go so far out. Rhea, quit splashing your sister," Gaia called out from where she sat. Her son let out a sound of displeasure, and she readjusted him on her chest. He was beginning to look more and more like her, something she knew her husband was not pleased by. He had her golden hair – something no native of Egypt had ever seen before, though it was common in her homeland.

"Mother, there's a basket coming our way!" Themis, her eldest daughter called. She was rapidly approaching marrying age, but seemed to be perpetually obsessed with childish games. Gaia worried about finding her a suitable husband – no first daughter of hers would be anything other than a royal's first wife.

"Themis, please don't make up stories."

"No, there is, Mother!" Tethys called. She was holding Mnemosyne, who at only a year and a half of age was too young to swim like the other girls. "What do you suppose is in it?"

Her girls would pay dearly if this turned out to be some trick. She pulled up her skirt with one hand while holding her baby in the other, and made her way out to the other girls. The basket was only a few feet away from Theia, who had swum out farther to grab it.

Gaia was just as curious as her girls, though it was probably just some commoner's fish basket that had accidentally been swept away. "Come, girls. Let's take it to the shore and look."

She handed Kronos to Themis, who tried desperately to stop his fussings in protest of being interrupted in the middle of a meal. "Hush, Mother will be back in a moment," she whispered soothingly.

The other sisters all gathered around as their mother lifted the lid. "Oh…oh, look at what the gods have blessed us with, girls," she whispered. An infant, no more than a few days old, was sleeping peacefully in the basket. He had a thin sprinkling of dark hair, and his skin was uncharacteristically light. Resting on his chest was a small stone attached to a leather string.

"Come girls, let's go show Father your new brother," Gaia said, scooping up the infant.

When Uranus saw the child, his face clouded. He took the stone in his hands and studied it. "Damn the gods," he whispered to himself, slipping it into a pocket.

"What was that, love?" Gaia asked, looking down lovingly at the infant. He knew there was no way to avoid what Hrashmi had predicted.

"Just that he needs a name, my queen."

"Perseus," she whispered. It had been the name of many great people in her homeland. "We'll call him Perseus."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter One  
><strong>**To Live as a Royal**

She pressed her lips to the ground, extending her arms forward until her fingertips dipped into the Nile.

The temple of Aquam Deus was an architectural feat – built right across the river, a sacrificial altar on one side and the chambers of the priestesses on the other. The Nile went through their sacred place of prayer, lapping the floor where the cool blue tiles ended.

Settrah knew her time was coming. Soon Mortis Deo would claim her, and the next high priestess would be chosen the moment she took her last breath. The thought did not frighten her – she had lived a long life by their standards, and her old bones were beginning to pain her.

"Aquam Deus, quamvis frater vester scit artem prophetiam sensi conturbatio in futurum. Agit per voluntatem tuam mihi, et secundum aliquid male. Lorem sapiens Deus, dic quid est quod te turbat." _Water God, though it is your brother that knows the art of prophecy, I sense a disturbance in the future. Your will acts through me, and you sense something is amiss. Please, wise god, tell me what it is that troubles you._

She whispered her prayer in the ancient language, the only one that the gods responded to. It had been taught to them by foreign ancestors who visited so long ago that no one could recall where they came from or where they left to, but they had brought with them knowledge of things great and powerful.

The water rose to her wrists, increasing until it was up to her elbows. The familiar feeling of calmness she felt when Aquam Deus visited her was tainted with a sense of worry. She shut her eyes and tried to ignore it.

_Settrah. Your time is fast approaching. _Though the god spoke in the ancient language, she understood him just as well as her native tongue. It was a gift every high priestess received when she was marked, while the others had to work and study for years to maintain the most basic grasp of it. _I fear there is no priestess who can handle what is to come._

_Please, tell me the reasons behind your concern. _

Feelings of worry, guilt, and fear rushed through her, then were quickly snatched back. As of late, her god had been hiding more and more from her. She wondered if he always distanced himself when he knew the time was coming to choose a new high priestess. Unfortunately, there was no one she could consult on the issue. The high priestesses worked together when the situation called for it, but they kept a polite distance from each other at all other times.

_My brothers are angered by what I have done. I must repent, or things will escalate. _

_What do you mean? I don't understand…please, don't isolate me now. _

The god was silent for a few minutes. She began to wonder if he had left her. _Settrah, I'm sorry. I fear it will upset them if you know any more. Please, do not be angry with me. I am ashamed of what is to come of my own fault, but there is nothing I can do. Goodbye, Settrah. _

A woman cleared her throat. Settrah slowly stood up, grimacing at the cracking sounds her joints made. Visiting with Aquam Deus normally left her feeling refreshed, but she felt impossibly tired.

The favored wife of the queen stood before her. She had her eldest daughters with her – one holding her son, and the other holding a cage that contained a beautiful white swan. It was custom when a royal child was born that a sacred bird be sacrificed to each of three temples: a golden eagle to Solem Deum to allow the child to grow strong, a white swan to Aquam Deus in order for the child to be connected to the heart of Egypt, and a black raven to Mortis Deo to spare the child from a premature death.

That was when Settrah noticed the small bundle in Gaia's arms. "We have come to pay the proper tribute for our new son, Perseus." Her voice was proud. "The gods blessed us with him but a few nights ago."

"Those of us at the temple of Aquam Deus did not know you were expecting." But the temple of Aquam Deus knew little about the affairs of the royal family. For the last several generations, the pharaohs had chosen to align themselves with the temple of Solem Deum. To the less favored houses, the message was clear. _We do not need you and your gods meddling in our business._

"Perseus came as a bit of a surprise." One of her daughters snorted. "Theia, please. You are in a holy temple."

Settrah slowly made her way across the temple, pulling out a bottle of blessed water from a fold of her dress. "Allow me to-"

She felt a sharp pain in her chest, and she fell to her knees, gasping for air that would not come.

_Your time has come, Settrah._ An unfamiliar voice, that of Mortis Deo, rang through her head.

Settrah shut her eyes for the last time.

And so began the years of the silence of the water god.

* * *

><p>The last six years had brought the same amount of water they would have received in two. And as carefully as they conserved their resources and stored their food, there was no denying that the Egyptians were in trouble if they didn't receive rain soon.<p>

But to two oblivious royal children, life continued as it always had – an oblivious, charmed existence.

"Let's go play in the river, big brother," said a young Perseus, shaking his sibling just moments after waking up himself.

Kronos gave him a look that could terrify even the bravest of soldiers. But then again, in Perseus' opinion, the golden eyes he and his father shared made every expression seem more frightening. "It's too early. Who do you think you are? Only the slaves wake up this early," he said all-knowingly. As of late, he seemed to think he knew everything, and only because Father had taken him on _royal business_ once.

"But it's so hot," Perseus whined.

His brother rolled to his other side and threw a pillow over his head. "Go ask Mother – see what she thinks of being woken up at this early hour. She probably won't even mind. You are her favorite, after all."

The young child stuck out his bottom lip in defiance and marched back to his bed. He sat still for a few minutes, then made a great show of moving into a sleeping position, rolling over, stretching, and trying hopelessly to get comfortable.

"Oh gods. If you're not going to stop, let's just go. If Father gets mad, it's your fault." Kronos jumped out of his bed. "Come on."

Perseus was out of bed and out the door in less than ten seconds. Though the small branch of the river that ran to their palace was little more than a trickle, the small pond it formed was still deep enough for two young children to swim in.

Perseus immediately dived into the water and swam so far down that his blood felt like ice. It seemed that the only cold spot in Egypt was twenty feet below the surface. Sometimes he wondered if people could live underwater. Kronos called him stupid when he asked him about it. His mother, after scolding his brother, told him it was a nice idea, but impossible.

His brother had barely got his feet wet when he finally resurfaced. "Mother will be mad if she knows we're out here with no one to watch us," he said evenly. "And then it will be my fault that we were out here."

Perseus lazily floated on his back. "You might as well come out here and enjoy yourself then."

"It must be nice knowing you'll never have any responsibility in life," Kronos spat, wading out further. "You'll never have to lead this country, never have to command the army, never have to deal with keeping the people satisfied in times of hardship." His golden eyes gleamed.

"Yes, but you'll never know what it means to relax. You'll turn out just like Father – all serious and boring."

"Take it back! Our father is a great leader," his brother protested.

"Come out and make me, why don't you?"

"I swear to the gods, my first act as pharaoh will be to banish you, little brother."

_Notes: It's a small chapter – I apologize. But I'm trying to give you something to hold you over until I figure out what I want to do with this story. Reviews are love, darlings._


	3. Chapter 3

_Oh my God, please help me.  
><em>_Neck deep in the river screamin' for relief.  
><em>_Hey says, it's mine to give, but it's yours to choose.  
><em>_You're gonna sink or swin.  
><em>_You're gonna learn the truth._

**Chapter Two**

**In the Light of Silence**

Azranda poured over the cards laid in front of her on the dusty floor. "King of prosperity," she murmured, placing her fingertips on a gold-trimmed card that showed a golden throne surrounded by lush greens. "But next to child of ruins. What does it mean, Zar?"

The snake on her shoulder hissed and pointed its head towards the door. A woman with long dark hair and the mark of Solem Deum on her forehead had just entered. Only a high priestess would have the audacity to enter the temple of another god without permission or sacrifice.

"Trying to see the future, Azranda? Have you forgotten that's my domain?" Hrashmi, so good at pleasing the pharaoh from what Azranda understood, looked at her with eyes cold enough to freeze the sun. She'd been named the high priestess as an infant, and it was Azranda's opinion that the power had long since gone to her head.

Azranda scooped up the cards and dropped them into a fold of her dark robe. She stood to face the other priestess and met her stare. "I think it is you who so freely forgets her place. I was merely exploring an item of curiosity."

"And that would be?"

"None of your concern."

Hrashmi sighed and began pacing the walls of the temple. "Don't you understand, Azranda? The silence of the water temple spells trouble for all of us if we cannot find a solution. There's barely enough food to feed the upper class, and then when the commoners and slaves begin to die, who does the work for them? Our country is falling apart."

Azranda knew Hrashmi's concern was genuine if she had come all the way to the temple of death alone to express it. "There's nothing we can do. This is something _They_ must sort out for themselves."

The priestess of the sun god hesitated before continuing. "The royal family's youngest son isn't of their blood."

Azranda narrowed her eyes. _Child of ruins. _"I am sure the royal family has their reasons."

"Just like you're sure Aquam Deus has his reasons for letting us all die a slow death?" Hrashmi shot back. "Egypt is headed for dark times. You can either fight it or stay complacent. But I suppose those of you in this temple need not fear death like the rest of us."

"I believe you've overstayed your welcome Hrashmi," Azranda said coldly. "You may leave now."

It was the last time the two temples interacted for many years.

* * *

><p>"Mother and Father were fighting again," the young Perseus said to his slightly elder brother. The boys were about ten years old, filled with energy and curiosity that knew few restrictions. However, as they grew up with the burden of royalty, both had started to develop a more serious, level side. "What do you think it's about?"<p>

Kronos snorted. "Nothing important. Though if I were you, I suppose I'd be worried." A grin spread across his face as Perseus stared at him intently. "When families are having trouble, they sometimes try sacrificing their youngest child."

Perseus didn't know if his brother was telling the truth or not. He'd once asked his mother about one of Kronos' stories (_why yes, there is a monster living in the water, but he only eats the people with dark hair)_, she'd scolded her eldest son, who had then refused to speak to Perseus for days.

And even if Kronos was mean to him sometimes, he was the only friend Perseus really had. He was his _brother_.

"You're lying," Perseus said, trying to sound brave.

His brother shrugged. "Maybe I am. I guess it doesn't really make a difference to me. Father would never let anything happen to his heir. Everyone else…fair game."

Mnemosyne, their youngest sister, stumbled into their room. "Can you two please be quiet? It's impossible to sleep. Don't you remember? Father said if we were good, we could all go to the temple with him tomorrow."

Both brothers quieted immediately. Visits outside were few and far between – there were those who frowned upon how lavishly the royal family continued to live while the rest of the country struggled, and the parents were reluctant to expose their children to the hostility.

However, that argument had been one the pharaoh had won. After all, if their son was going to rule the empire one day, he couldn't be kept sheltered in the royal palace until his father died. So though Gaia was reluctant, she'd agreed to let her husband take their children to the temple of Solem Deum, under the premise that it was only so they could visit their eldest sister, who had chosen to pledge herself to the sun god.

Perseus shut his eyes, the thought of seeing Themis tomorrow enough to quell his concern about his parents – at least for the time being.

_How much longer can we keep pretending that nothing's wrong?_

_How much longer can we keep pretending that he really belongs here?_

Perseus pushed the thoughts out of his mind and fell into an uneasy sleep.

Kronos and Perseus woke up far earlier than they normally would have, the excitement at the thought of getting out of the palace too much for them to sleep. Perseus talked Kronos into going for a quick swim in their private pond, though it had shrunk to hardly more than a waist-deep puddle for the young boys.

Perseus immediately ran into the water, submerging his head into the cool puddle. The dry heat was stifling – it burnt his pale skin and made his throat raw. He couldn't understand how people like his father and brother could tolerate it as though it was nothing.

"Aren't you going to come in?" Perseus asked, shaking the water out of his dark hair. Kronos was hovering at the shallows of the water, barely getting his feet wet. "It's so hot out."

Kronos waded in a bit father. "It doesn't bother me," he said, a definite hint of superiority to his tone. "Real Egyptians don't mind a bit of heat," he added, taking in his brother's already-reddening skin. "But you know, you've always been…_different_."

Perseus pushed past his brother, no longer in the mood for a swim. True, Kronos was his brother, and in reality, his only friend, but there were times he really wished he could get away from him. His brother was always so eager to latch onto any opportunity to point out his faults – of course, their mother always reassured Perseus that it was only because he was jealous, though he took little consolation in the fact.

"Come on, Perseus. You know I was only joking," Kronos called after him, letting out a nervous laugh. The elder brother was well aware that his mother favored Perseus, and his younger brother had on more than one occasion gone crying to her.

Perseus ran back to the palace, keeping his head down as frustrated tears formed in his eyes. He hated that his brother's opinion mattered so much to him, hated that-

Not watching where he'd been going, Perseus had run directly into their father. "Sorry, Father," he quickly apologized, keeping his head bowed. As patient as their mother was, the pharaoh had been known to lash out at his children on more than one occasion.

"What were you doing outside, Perseus?" The pharaoh's voice was cold, and Perseus braced himself for the physical reprimand he knew would follow. "You know I don't want you or your brother to-"

"It was my fault, Father," Kronos interrupted, having caught up with Perseus. "I…I couldn't sleep, so I asked him to come with me."

It was only then that Perseus dared look up at his father. The pharaoh's face was unreadable. "Very well, then," he said gruffly. "Try to get some sleep, both of you."

Times like these made Perseus very, very glad he had an older brother.

However, when Kronos brushed past him, he made clear the reason he'd defended his brother. "You're worried about Mother and Father arguing? Well, they argue the most about you – especially how Father treats you." It was no secret that the pharaoh was colder towards his youngest son than his other children, while he put his eldest son on a pedestal. "I don't want them angry at each other any more than you do."

And times like these made Perseus wish that by some twist of fate, he'd been born the elder brother.

* * *

><p>The temple of Solem Deum looked like it had been made out of solid gold, and under the intense glare of the sun, it was hard to look at it for more than a few seconds. Perseus had never seen any other temples, but he couldn't imagine anything coming close to the splendor of the temple of the sun god.<p>

Though the current royal family was close with its chosen temple, it was rare that the pharaoh himself paid a visit – instead, he chose to have the high priestess herself visit him in his private chambers, where their business had strayed from religion more than a few times.

In fact, it was common belief that the high priestess' daughter could claim the pharaoh as her father. Of course, young girls born to the temple were raised completely by their mothers and the other priestesses.

But of course, the pharaoh was free to do what he pleased, and it was up only to the gods to judge him. He was their ruler. Questioning him would be treason.

Kronos shook Perseus out of his thoughts, roughly grabbing his arm and dragging him forward. He'd been given explicit instructions by their mother to keep an eye on his younger brother – Gaia herself had chosen to stay at the palace, claiming that going out in the heat made her feel faint.

"Come on, Perseus," Kronos said, keeping his brother close. "Now watch," he ordered. "Once the worshippers here notice we're the royal family, they'll all try not to stare, but this is probably the only time they'll see us until we're grown up. The royal children are always kept out of the public eye, because…"

When Kronos started talking political, he sounded much older than ten years. Perseus thought the knowledge that he'd one day be pharaoh had long since gone to Kronos' head, but he'd learned how to drown out his conceited ramblings.

Perseus looked over his shoulder, just one last glimpse at the expansive desert before what was looking to be an insufferable day of having to listen to Kronos talk. But while he'd expected to see nothing but endless sand, he saw a figure in the distance. It was hard to judge, and the sun's glare didn't make things easier, but to Perseus, the person seemed relatively close.

"I…umm…I lost something…I'll be right behind you…" Perseus mumbled, slipping out of Kronos' grip. "I promise."

"If anything happens to you, Mother will kill me. And if she kills me, I will find some way to kill you. Understand, Perseus?" Kronos demanded, clearly torn between facing his mother's wrath or losing time in the temple. "So hurry up."

Perseus nodded, waiting until his brother had run into the doors of the temple to catch up with the rest of the family; they'd long since fallen behind everyone else. As soon as he could be certain it was safe to go, he took off running towards the figure in the distance, assuming he'd be able to see the temple and find his way back with no trouble.

However, Perseus quickly lost all sense of direction, and the figure he'd noticed was nowhere to be seen. Why had he even felt so compelled to chase after a stranger? And somehow, the temple was nowhere to be seen.

He was impossibly thirsty, and the dusty air hurt to breathe. Perseus imagined that he'd been wandering around for hours, though it had probably been no more than minutes.

_Just one foot in front of the other. Keep moving. _Eventually he had to find someone, didn't he? And what would happen if he never found his way back? Even though he sometimes hated his brother, Perseus didn't want Kronos to get in trouble for him.

There was no way of telling if he was walking in circles, and even if he wasn't, Perseus knew nothing about the layout of the world beyond the palace walls. Help could be just over a hill, and he had no way of knowing.

Eventually, his steps became slower, and he began to lose hope. Perseus couldn't believe that he'd been so stupid to run away from his family, all in pursuit of some figure in the distance. He was…he was going to die, he realized.

Perseus fell to his knees, defeated. He looked up at the burning sun. _Stupid people. They're so worried about worshiping the stupid sun god. Don't they see that our country has enough sun? It doesn't make us stronger – it kills us. _

In one last desperate attempt, Perseus whispered a prayer to a god that had long since been forgotten by the people of Egypt. "Please…help me," he croaked.

And then something happened that made Perseus knew he was delusional – soon to die.

Water began to fall from the sky.

_Notes: I apologize infinitely for how long it took to write this chapter. I promise the next will come sooner, and I think it will be much longer, and reintroduce Thalia. Excited? Review and it will probably come faster, lovelies. (:_


	4. Chapter 4

_But you can't stop nothing  
><em>_If you got no control  
><em>_Of the thoughts in your mind  
><em>_That you kept in, you know  
><em>_You don't know nothing  
><em>_But you don't need to know  
><em>_The wisdom's in the trees  
><em>_Not the glass windows  
><em>_You can't stop wishing  
><em>_If you don't let go_

**Chapter Three  
><strong>**Reunited**

"Why exactly did we have to come out here?" Thalia demanded, the 15-year-old's voice sharp.

Grover cleared his throat. He supposed out of all the women in the world, Thalia was far from the worst. He'd known her, as well as her unpredictable temper, for as long as he could remember. At the best of times, she was a good friend. And at the worst of times, well, Grover tried not to think about those.

_Neither of you are getting any younger. And with her mother gone, she really should be married off soon. _His father's words echoed in his head.

"I…well…" Grover struggled to find the right words. Thalia only glared at him, wiping the sweat off her forehead. "It's…completely stupid, so I'll just blurt it out." He gulped before continuing. "My parents want us to get married."

Thalia was silent for a few, painfully awkward moments. "Is it really that ridiculous?" she finally asked. "My mother's dead, and even if she was alive – she wasn't much more than a delusional whore to most people, so I could have hardly counted on her help. And at any rate, you're better than a widower twice my age."

"You…you'd really marry me?" Grover bleated nervously. He'd counted on her saying no.

Thalia burst into a fit of laughter. "Really, Grover? I'm only 15, and even if I was older – marry you? I'm sorry, but…_you_? You're my best friend, but I'd never consider…" She dissolved into giggles.

"My parents were just thinking of your reputation," Grover said quietly, desperate to save what was left of his pride. "With your mother gone, and…"

"Well, tell you parents that as much as I appreciate their concern, I'll take my chances," Thalia said, her mood suddenly sour. "Now, can we please go home and get out of this damned sun?"

Grover sighed. "I guess…I…" There was a sound in the distance, like two stones being smashed together, only a thousand times louder. "Thalia…what was that?"

He saw a rare trace of fear in his friend's eyes. "I don't know. My mother used to tell stories about…_storms_, but they haven't happened in years." The loud sound echoed again, this time seeming much, much closer. "We should get home."

Before the words were out of her mouth, water began to fall from the sky. _Rain_.

Both teens stared at each other for a split second before coming to the same conclusion. They took off running in the direction of home, but the unfamiliar rain was disorientating. It made everything seem strange, foreign. However, when Grover opened his mouth and got a mouthful of water, he finally realized what it felt like to not be thirsty.

And he decided water was a very good thing.

He was so wrapped in his own thoughts that he didn't realize that Thalia had tripped, nor did he realize that he was about to stumble over the exact same thing and fall right on top of her.

"Gods, Grover. Get off," Thalia hissed, standing up and trying to shake the mud off her white dress, though the rain was making quick work of the stains. "Can't you watch where you're going? I mean, I get that it's…"

Grover quickly drowned out the rest of what Thalia was saying, eyes focused on the same thing they'd both tripped over, but not a thing…a person. "Thalia, look," he said quietly, though something in his tone must have warranted her attention.

Thalia's eyes widened when she took in the sight. "Do you…think he's dead?" She took in the tiny, dark-haired form. His skin was an ugly red color. _Sunburn_, another word her mother had taught her – though she'd never actually seen anyone get it. He must have been outside for quite some time, she decided.

Grover shook his head, slowly flipping the boy over so his face wasn't buried in the sand. The child coughed a few times, though he didn't wake up. "Well, at least he's alive," Grover finally said.

"I don't recognize him," Thalia said, scooping the small figure up into her arms. He couldn't have been older than 10 years old. "Maybe he belongs to one of the traveling caravans, and he just wandered out a bit too far."

"The last caravan came through weeks ago."

"Okay, well…" Thalia couldn't come up with another explanation. "We should get him home, and when he wakes up we can ask him."

"That's a good idea, but…what way is home?" Grover asked. It was impossible to see too far out with the rain falling down so hard, and their narrow view looked the same from every direction "I got disorientated when we tripped over him, and I can't…remember."

"Dammit, Grover," Thalia cursed. "Come on, I think it's…this way," she said and started walking in the direction Grover was nearly certain they'd come from.

Eventually, they came to a tall hill that had a small hollow carved into the base, no more than four feet high. While Grover was panicking – they'd never seen this before; it only affirmed that they were impossibly lost – Thalia was able to see the positive in it.

"Come on, we can wait here for the rain to stop," Thalia said, crawling in without even stopping to think what could possibly be inhabiting the opening, leaving Grover with no choice but to follow her.

Once they'd become settled in, Grover was the first to speak. "Thalia, do you think this means the world's ending?"

Thalia snorted. "This used to happen all the time – ten years ago, that is. And, well, not all the time. The scholars knew when it would happen, and they'd tell the farmers, so the farmers knew when to grow and harvest their crops. But, it just stopped happening."

"Why do you think it started again?"

"Why not?"

Grover was ready to ask his next question, but hesitated as the boy stirred. Slowly, his eyes opened. Even in the dark, it was obvious that they were a startling shade of green. "Where am I? Who are you?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

It was Thalia who spoke first. "We were wondering the same thing about you."

The little boy sat up, a defiant expression on his face. "My name's Perseus, and I'm third in line to be pharaoh," he said proudly. "And…and when my family founds out that you took me away, you'll be punished."

"Excuse me? We found you out there as good as dead. And third in line to be the pharaoh? Don't make me laugh – how could someone sit on the throne of the burning sun when being outside for a few hours burns them?" Thalia demanded, the same stubborn tone in her voice as the young boy's.

"It's true. They're probably looking for me right now."

Thalia laughed haughtily. "Seriously, kid. Who are you parents? We'll take you home as soon as the rain stops."

"Rain?"

"It's water, but it falls from the sky," Grover said, taking the chance to join in.

Perseus looked back and forth at Thalia and Grover. "You still didn't tell me who you are."

"I'm Thalia. He's Grover," Thalia said flatly. Her patience was running thin. "Perseus, if you're a…royal child, why were you out there?"

Perseus didn't answer her. Grover was certain he saw fat tears in the boy's eyes. "I just want to go home," he whispered. "Will you take me home?"

Grover didn't have to look at Thalia to know she was rolling her eyes. "I'd love to, but if you insist on having us walk you to the royal palace, I'm drawing the line. You realize how ridiculous we'd look? They'd kill us all once they stopped laughing."

Perseus bit his lip and reached under his shirt, retrieving a medallion that hung on a piece of thick leather. Wordlessly, he slipped it off and handed it to Thalia. She couldn't read hieroglyphics, but it was hard to mistake what the thunderbolt and the temple meant.

The color drained from Thalia's face. "Wow…well…we should probably get you home. Soon."

Again, Grover didn't have to look to know Perseus was rolling his eyes. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

It was silent until Grover voiced what they were both thinking. "Umm…Perseus? We really can't do anything until this rain stops."

"And we can hardly walk you home," Thalia added, handing Perseus the medallion back. She'd never been to the royal palace, but everyone from her village could recognize the spiraling towers in the distance that looked like they were made from solid gold.

"How am I supposed to get home then?" Perseus asked.

Grover sensed that Thalia was barely holding back a snide comment, so he took the chance to cut in. "We'll walk you as far as we can. But…you probably shouldn't mention anything about us to your parents." The pharaoh and his head wife – the thought was hard to comprehend.

"What am I supposed to tell them then? My father will be so angry."

"That's not our problem." Thalia's voice was cold. However, she quickly backpedaled when fat tears welled in Perseus' eyes. "Just…tell them the truth, but leave us out."

In the painful silence that followed, it was obvious that the rain had stopped. "We should figure out how to get you home," Thalia said, crawling out of the small cave. The landscape looked strangely different, as if the water had breathed life into it.

However, the golden towers of the royal palace were visible in the distance. "You just have to head that way. Everyone is probably looking at you, anyway."

Perseus looked around and took a few steps back before looking back at the pair. "Will I ever see you again?"

"No," Thalia answered.

"Of course," Grover answered at the same time, meriting a dirty look from Thalia. "I mean, not like this, but you'll see us again."

Perseus ran forward and hugged them both. "Thank you," he whispered. Something in his tone made them believe the words rarely came out of his mouth.

"You really should get going," Thalia said, suddenly eager to get rid of the kid and back home.

It wasn't until Grover and Thalia were nearly back to their village that Grover spoke. "You realize if he really is one of the pharaoh's children…" He let the thought hang.

"We saved him, which means he owes us."

"Which means the pharaoh would owe us."

A grin spread across Thalia's face. "Perhaps today wasn't a total waste, then."


End file.
